Superstition
by Ablivion
Summary: A short, multi-chapter challenge word fic. When the boys take a little vacation, all Hell breaks loose as Ambrose decides to test the boundaries, and Rollins takes all the risks. Will they get home in one piece, or are the deadly stories more than just superstition? Though a bit of a serious summary, it's actually a light, fluffy story containing The Shield.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello again, I hope you're all doing well! This is a fun little multi-chapter story I came up with after receiving challenge words from ChelleLew (thank you again ^^)**

**The five words I had to use were: popcorn, classic English Literature, swings, Seth, and volcanic rock.**

**Hope you all like it and have as much fun reading it as I had writing it :)**

**P.S. If you'd like to issue me some challenge words for a future story, feel free to contact me either through a review of a pm.**

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The trip to Hawaii had been a spur of the moment idea. Having just finished a show in California, it was a quick flight to the laid-back islands. As a result, what had started off as an offhanded suggestion by The Usos, about taking a little break, had turned into plane tickets and hotel reservations for a weekend getaway. A small group of them had traveled together: The Usos, Daniel Brian, John Cena, The Bella Twins, and a few others. During the day, they figured it'd be fun to do activities together–the girls' idea really–but at night, they all went their separate ways, which suited everyone just fine.

Now, Seth found himself snuggled in bed with a bowl of popcorn as he turned on the television. He'd been more than content to stay back at the hotel while Dean and Roman explored the local nightlife. It wasn't often that he got time all to himself, so given the rare occasion, he planned to sit back, relax, and make the most of it. After all, he could find nightlife anyplace, but it was rare to be in such a peaceful place for a whole weekend, and he planned to take advantage and recharge.

Given that they were in Hawaii, most channels highlighted some aspect of island life. Seth paused his flipping when he saw a volcano erupting. The makeshift group had gone to see a volcano earlier in the day, and if he had to guess, that same volcano was now erupting onscreen. Throwing down the remote, Seth watched as the program told him more than he'd ever wanted to know about the workings of volcanoes and their byproducts. However, the show ended on a disturbing note. The last segment of the program was dedicated to superstition. According to legend, people who take volcanic rocks home, die because of it; the show even provided "evidence." Seth chuckled to himself as he changed channels. _Good thing Dean and Roman didn't see this. Rome would freak out, and Dean would want to test it out..._Seth thought.

Seth had never really been a superstitious person, but he had to admit, being around the very superstitious Roman Reigns for so long was starting to rub off on him. Seth however, did not think of himself as "superstitious" per se; he preferred to think of it as: "being safe, rather than sorry." Dean, on the other hand, was the polar opposite of both Roman and Seth. If he knew of a superstition, he was guaranteed to try it out. He spilled salt on tables with no fear, he walked under ladders without a second thought, and Roman never tired of scolding Dean for purposefully stepping on whatever cracks he could find when he knew the larger man was watching. Roman swore that Dean must have a death wish. Seth swore that Dean did it for the pure enjoyment of pissing Roman off. Regardless who was right, in Dean's mind, no superstition was off limits for testing.

Thus, hanging his head as he thought about their contrasting views on the issue, Seth realized what he had to do. He'd been around his brothers long enough to learn that he should never second guess any suspicions he had about them, and that went double for any suspicions he had where Dean was concerned. Thus, getting out of his now exceedingly comfy bed, Seth walked over to Dean's bag, pacing in front of it. Taking a deep breath, he made up his mind; God only knew what he'd find, but he was willing to take the risk if it meant saving his friend.

The search started off well enough, just a few t-shirts and some underwear, nothing special. However, as he dug deeper, Dean's bag became more...well, Dean-like. The first weird thing he found was an old switchblade with the initials _SC_ engraved on the handle. Seth wasn't sure what the letters stood for, but since it was hidden away in a rolled up pair of socks, Seth figured it was something important to his friend. Then, for some strange reason that Seth couldn't even begin to fathom, he found that Dean had an old, silver fork in his bag. Setting aside the rusting eating utensil and digging yet further into the bag, Seth's hand suddenly clasped something that he would have never guessed would be in Dean's bag: _The Anthology of Classic English Literature, Volume B_. Seth knew Dean loved to read—it was, after all, the only activity that lessened Dean's constant movements—but he'd had no idea that Dean was such a _serious_ reader. _Huh, you learn something new every day_, Seth thought to himself. He had to admit, upon seeing the hefty book, his respect for his brother had, if possible, risen just a bit higher. As Seth went to put the book aside, the edge of a photo sticking out from it caught his attention. _I shouldn't look at it_, Seth thought to himself, _God only knows what weird thing it could be_...

Putting the book on the ground beside him, Seth resumed his search, but a minute later, found the book back in his hands; he'd been unsuccessful at staving off his curiosity. Opening the book, Seth was shocked to see that what he'd assumed would be some vulgar photo, was actually a picture of the three of them holding their fists together in the middle of the ring, each man toting championship gold. On the back of the photo was simply written: _my brothers_. Seth smiled warmly–he was learning so many new things about Dean Ambrose today.

Seth's leisurely rummaging was brought to a halt when the news anchor, who had appeared after a silly sitcom on TV, reported that it was nearing two thirty in the morning. "Aw man," Seth said anxiously. The local bars would all be closing soon, which meant that Dean and Roman would be back any minute. Needless to say, there was _no _way he wanted to get caught anywhere near Dean's bag; Dean was about as protective over his bag as he was over his brothers. Thus, setting the large tome aside once more, Seth quickly resumed his search with new haste and determination.

Suddenly, Seth smiled triumphantly as his hand finally brushed against his quarry tucked away in the bottom of the bag: Dean's stash of volcanic rocks. Seth shook his head, always amazed at just how well he'd come to know his two best friends. Hurrying to hide the evidence of his search before his friends came back, Seth quickly set about returning the contents of the bag to look as untouched as possible. Once assured that he hadn't forgotten to put anything back, Seth walked over to his own bag to find a hiding place for the rocks in case Dean decided to snoop in Seth's bag, as he'd been known to do when boredom overwhelmed the frigidity man. Seth decided that instead of approaching Ambrose on the subject, he'd just sneak away tomorrow morning and dispose of the rocks before they left the island. He had no problems simply letting Dean ponder how the rocks had gotten out of his bag once he began searching for them when they returned home.

As Seth searched his own bag for a good hiding spot, he heard the hotel room door swing open, admitting an obviously drunk Dean, leaning against an amused Roman. "Sethie, we're home!" Dean bellowed happily as he flung his fanny pack onto the nearest bed.

Dean tried to duck, but in his drunken state, the action almost amounted to a face-plant as he tried to dodge the pillow Seth launched at him. Seth, who immediately turned back to his bag after his attack, didn't notice the pillow colliding with Roman instead, who was struggling to keep Dean upright. "Hey!" Roman exclaimed as Dean laughed, supported by the Samoan's steadying grasp.

"Sorry, I was aiming for Dean's head. He knows better than to call me that..." Seth said over his shoulder as he pretended to be rearranging his duffel for the trip home the next day.

"Aw, Sethie, I tease 'cause I care," Dean said with a sincere smile.

"You're lucky The Shield needs you, or else it would be death by pillow beating for you," Seth said in annoyance, becoming further agitated as Roman's laughter joined Dean's. Turning from his bag and squaring his shoulders—drunk or not, his friends were about to get a beat down—Seth paled as he finally got a good look at the two, taking in their assorted bruises for the first time. Brow furrowing, Seth asked, "What happened to you guys?"

"Food first, then story," Dean chided playfully.

Seth rolled his eyes, suddenly missing Dean's normal, morose drunkenness instead of the rare, happy form of drunk Dean Ambrose. "You ate all the food before you two left, remember? All we've got is some of my leftover popcorn by the TV, but–" Seth couldn't get the rest of the sentence out fast enough before Dean had pushed past him, helping himself to the buttery snack as he began explaining their "adventure."

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**Please continue on for chapter 2.**


	2. Chapter 2

"...and then the guy—remember, he's like Big Show size," Dean said, reaching his arm up as high as it would go in an effort to illustrate his point, "swings at Roman with this huge haymaker, but I push the guy, so it just glances off Roman," Dean says as he points to an angry bruise on Roman's cheek, "and then I hit him with a wicked uppercut! Knocked the guy out cold!" Dean finished, radiating pride.

"Well, sounds like you guys had a fun night," Seth said sarcastically as Dean let out a loud yawn.

"Yup," Dean said, almost always cheerful after a brawl.

"Alright, tough guy, let's get you to bed. We've got an early flight tomorrow," Roman said, going to his bag to pull out some pajamas. Seth and Dean followed suit. Grabbing his clothes, Seth straightened to change, but paused as he saw Dean standing frozen, staring into his bag.

"Something wrong?" Roman asked as he looked up, Dean's lack of typical rummaging chaos catching his attention.

"Someone's been in my bag," Dean said, his face growing serious as he seemed to instantly sober up.

"How do you know?" Roman asked.

"Because when you grow up as poor as I have—when every shirt or sock you have is irreplaceable—and you constantly get bullied and pranked by the other wrestlers who think it's funny to steal your stuff all the time, you learn some tricks," Dean said, his anger growing at the memories.

Roman raised his eyebrow as he asked, "What tricks?"

"Well, for instance, I pack my bag in a very specific way, so that I know if someone's been in it, and what they've taken," Dean said, looking between his two friends. "My bag is a mess."

Seth chuckled, trying to hide his nerves, "Well, with the way you fling things around, isn't it always a mess?"

"It's _never_ a mess. I know where every single thing should be," Dean said with a sudden soberness that left no doubt to the truth of his statement. Seth was stunned, not sure how he could have missed Dean's peculiar packing habits. To anyone else, it looked as if Ambrose just tossed things into his bag without a second thought.

Growling in anger, Dean snatched up his bag and went into the bathroom, intent on finding out if anything was missing while the other two changed. Roman looked over at Seth, but said nothing; if the big man had his suspicions, he wasn't letting on.

Dean reentered the room moments later. "I'm going to call the front desk to complain. Something's missing."

Seth knew he was going to get a beat down for this, but he couldn't let some innocent hotel employee take the blame. "I did it," Seth said cautiously.

"Come again?" Dean said, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he dramatically held one hand to his ear, acting like he was trying to hear Seth better. In that instant, Seth knew he wasn't going to get off easy.

"I was the one who went through your bag," Seth admitted quietly.

Seth felt immediate relief towards Roman as the large man stepped forward, catching Dean in mid lunge. "Calm down Dean. If Rollins went through your bag, I'm sure it's for a good reason," Roman said, leveling his gaze on Seth in a way that silently said that Seth _really_ better have a good explanation.

Seth's face reddened as he explained, "Okay, look, I was watching a show earlier, and it talked about how volcanic rocks from Hawaii become cursed if people try to take them off the islands. I know you Dean, and I know you can't help but test the limits. Turns out, I was right. You were going to bring some home."

"Oh come on! You don't really believe all that bs, do you Rollins?" Dean asked in exasperation.

Roman turned to Dean. "That true? Were you taking some home?" the big man asked, clearly uncomfortable.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, it's true. I just wanted to prove to you that you don't have to be afraid of every little superstition," Dean said to Roman.

"Well why not try to prove me wrong with a superstition that can't kill you?" Roman asked incredulously.

"I would have been fine," Dean mumbled with a shrug, "I always am."

"Not the point Ambrose," Roman said, his voice heating.

Turning his attention back to Seth, Roman asked, "So, you found them all right?"

"Yeah. I'll put them back tomorrow before we leave."

"Good," Roman said, nodding his approval. "Now let's go to bed. We can talk about this tomorrow when we're rested and Dean's sober."

"Bite me," Dean spat as he settled into bed, not even bothering to change. Immediately he spread out on top of the comforter, making it clear that he didn't intend to share a bed tonight. Sighing, Roman joined Seth instead. Snores almost instantly emanated from Dean's bed as Roman turned out the lights, rolling over to face Seth in the darkness. "Is it true?"

"Is what true Rome?" Seth asked, suddenly feeling drained now that his adrenaline had worn off.

"That they're cursed?"

Seth smiled. He had no idea how or when Roman had become so superstitious, but he'd been that way at least since Seth had known him. Reigns tried to avoid anything that could bring him bad luck, or curse him, or just cause problems for him in general. It didn't matter to him how silly the superstition sounded, he wouldn't challenge it, which, for some reason–Seth couldn't quite figure out why–made Seth want to work that much harder to protect Roman from the crazy outside world. "I don't know, but that's what the tour guide told us, remember? And that's what the TV said too," Seth answered quietly.

Roman nodded, settling in to sleep, but something kept crossing his mind, and he couldn't resist asking, "So what was in Dean's bag, anyway? I can't even imagine what he'd have in there," Roman said with a soft chuckle.

Seth smiled, "I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."

"Good answer Rollins. Now both of you shut up so I can get my beauty sleep," Dean grouched, his voice muffled by a pillow. Patting Seth's shoulder gently, Roman turned over to get comfortable. "Good luck tomorrow Rollins. I wouldn't want to be you when Dean wakes up," he warned softly.

"Yeah, thanks," Seth said as he tried to get comfortable too.

The things he did for family...

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**Please continue on for chapter 3.**


	3. Chapter 3

Their morning had been hectic. Despite a wicked hangover, Dean had snuck out with their ice bucket, filled it with ice and cold water, then poured it all over a soundly sleeping Seth with Roman as collateral damage. After a promise from Dean that that was only the beginning of his revenge, the men took turns showering, then got dressed, finding themselves on a plane a few hours later.

Once they'd made it to Washington, the boys headed straight for the arena for a Raw taping. Inside the large arena, Seth immediately headed towards their assigned locker room and its showers. Dean had found some practical joke souvenirs from the stores in the Hawaii airport, and had apparently made it his mission to test them all out on Seth. The most annoying, Seth decided, was the itching powder Ambrose had somehow managed to get all over Seth before their flight. Little did Seth know, as he turned the water as hot as it would go, that Dean had decided that one of his last acts of revenge, before he'd consider forgiving Seth, would be to dump the rest of his itching powered into Seth's duffel bag, paying special attention to his ring gear.

"I wouldn't do that," Roman warned, but made no move to stop Dean; he didn't want to be next on Dean's hit list.

"Mind your own business," Dean said, shaking the small pouch of powder in front of Roman as a warning. Reigns held up his hands in surrender, returning his attention to back to his own bag while he tried to figure out a way to warn Rollins without Dean catching on. Unzipping Seth's bag quickly, Dean rummaged through it to find his friend's ring gear. Suddenly, Dean let out a satisfied laugh as he took something out of Seth's bag and walked over to Roman. "Well look what we have here," Dean said in amusement as held out one of Seth's old t-shirts just as the youngest member of The Shield reentered the room. Seth stood with one towel around his waist as he used another to dry his hair, a look of anguish on his face as he saw Dean and Roman with his shirt in their hands. "Aw man, now what do you have planned? More stupid powder?"

"You better see this Rollins," Roman said quietly.

Seth walked over and immediately let out a string of curses as he paled. "This is all your fault Ambrose! If you wouldn't have started your revenge at six in the morning, I would have remembered to get rid of them!" Seth exclaimed, staring at the volcanic rocks that Dean was holding. Dean simply shrugged, "You'll be fine, it's just a superstition."

"You'd better hope so," Rollins growled in annoyance.

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Needless to say, it took a few weeks before Seth was comfortable going anywhere on his own. This worked out just fine for Dean who, as always, wanted to see firsthand if the myth was true...though he highly doubted it. But curiosity wasn't the only reason why Dean stuck so close to Seth. Though Dean would never openly admit it, he actually planned to be there for his friend in case Seth actually needed help with the "curse." However, for all Dean's good intentions, Seth interpreted Dean's unusual hovering as the Lunatic Fringe biting his time to say "I told you so" to Roman and Seth if nothing became of the curse.

In contrast to Dean's seeming excitement over the situation, poor Roman was constantly in protector mode. Roman followed close to Seth, doing whatever he saw fit to save Seth from what Reigns believed was inevitable doom, and regardless of their personal beliefs, all three men had to admit, there had been a few close calls: a car had nearly hit Seth as he crossed the street, the electric socket caught fire at the hotel when he'd tried to plug in his blow dryer and he'd been trapped in an elevator on his way to meet his teammates. Thankfully though, through all this, Seth had thus far been unscathed. Roman was convinced it was the curse, Seth was beginning to agree with his friend, and Dean swore that it was all just coincidence.

Lucky for Seth, Dean cared much more about his brother than he did about being right (as he saw it). Deciding to forgive Seth for the whole ordeal, Dean took it upon himself to research how to get rid of a curse he was more than sure didn't even exist. Not much of a researcher, and no friend to technology, Dean was astonished, once he could figure out how to find the information, how many superstitious people there were in the world as he found endless accounts of the myth, and then eventually, how to break it.

"Just put them back?" Rollins asked suspiciously.

"That's what I said...well actually, that's what Google said," Dean corrected, still annoyed at the surprised looks on Rollins and Reigns' face when he'd told them he'd actually Googled something.

"That easy? Just put them back?" Seth asked again, just to be sure there wasn't a catch that Dean had forgot to mention.

"Look, if you don't believe me, keep your stupid rocks," Dean said as he turned his attention to his new Google search: funny animal pictures.

"Now, we didn't say we weren't going to try, we just want to make sure we get it right," Roman said, trying to coax an unusually helpful Dean back into the next phase of planning: getting The Shield back to Hawaii.

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After putting the rocks back and boarding their return flight, Dean pretended to pout on the way home because now they'd never know who was right out of the three of them; they'd never know if the rocks were a curse or a myth. Dean's behavior suited both Seth and Roman just fine because when Dean pouted, he tended to sit quietly while he brooded and shot angry glares at his friends. This quiet time allowed Roman, for the first time in weeks, to doze off with his head laying heavily on Seth's shoulder, the big man finally able to relax a little now that he was not on constant alert for Seth's well being. Thus, all three men sat quietly as their plane began its decent back to the states.

As unpredictable as ever, Dean suddenly brightened. "Hey, we should go on trips like this more often."

Startled by Dean's sudden comment, Seth and Roman simply groaned and closed their eyes, trying their best to ignore Dean as he made plans for the next superstition he wanted to tackle.

_ Next time, Dean gets to try out the superstition_, Seth thought wearily to himself.

The things he did for his family...

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**Again, hope you enjoyed this fluffy little story, and please let me know what you think about it :)**


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